The Emporia weekly news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1881-1889, 1887-11-17
AN ORDEAL OF FIRE.

Mangam was awfully cut up about it.
He fancied you were going to throw
away your whole career" (puff, puff
''by marrying"
Lester Wyndham smiled, but the
look on his face did not express much
gaiety.
..Oncle Mangam was always imag-
lining something" he said, briefly.
WELL" said Toy, resuming his seat,
81 confess that was a little curious
myself. What became of her, any
howP"
why, my dear fellow" Wyndham
replied, testify, show should knowP
One isn't bound to keep track of all
the pretty models one-fiirts with. /
shouldn't attempt it. But see here
it is half-past seven. If we are going
to hear 'Mignon' tonight, we'd better
be off,"
''Caserelli in the role. you sayP"
queried Toy. 1--we heard her sing it
twice. She is getting too old and fat
for that sort of thing. See here-how
would it do for me to join you after
the second actP 1 ought to show up at
the Snowdon reception, you know"
LAS you please" Wyndham replied,
buttoning his light overcoat over his
dress suit and tucking an opera hat
gloves.
''Tn stop here a while them" Toy
said, dropping back into the Oriental
chair, which had such charms for him.
Wyndham's rooms were everybody's
admiration. Fortune had smiled on
the young artist. He had sold several
pictures at the Academy, and just as
Fame placed the laurel on his brow,
his rich old uncle died, leaving him all
his money.
The studio of an artist who has
plenty of money ought to be the ideal
of elegance, and Wyndham's was all
that; yet he was not a happy man.
As he stepped into the Hanson sum-
moned to convey him to the opera, the
name of his pretty model was ringing
sadly in his ears.
Where was MargueriteP All, if he
only knew what had become of her!
He was alone in the box when the
curtain rose. The opening chorus
seemed to him to come from afar of.
He saw nothing of the painted singers
that moved to and fro on the boards
Is the argument unfOlded itself and
the audience began its fitful applause.
Wyndham saw nothing of the daubed
scenery or the stage trappings; he saw
his own room and little, slender fig
ure modestly draped in soft white
Marguerite, with eyes like dark pam
sizes, and mass of shining hair rip
ping out of high, Greek knot.
The opera ran on, but Wyndham
sat there, one gloved hand holding the
libretto unopened, the other resting
passively on the box cushions.
| He seemed insensible to everything;
but there came at last full, splendid
chorus that might have reused any
one.
Wyndham looked up. The stage
was full of men and girls. He glanced
over them, and then-he started.
Leaning forward, he caught his breath.
| white, with golden hair, singing with
downcast eyes, her cheeks glowing
| with a carmine which art could not
| imitateP
Marguerite" he breathed. cit is
my little Marguerite"
Like one spellbound. he sat there
leaning breathlessly forward till the
last note of the chorus died away.
If she would only look at himl But
no! What was that rosy glow aboveP
Why did the prima donna glance up
| in a startled way, and then dash of
the stage?
A sudden burst of smoke and wild
cry of ''Fire" revealed the danger.
Almost instantly the audience was
on its feet. The stage manager rushed
out amidst the fight of the troupe
through the wings, which were wrapped
in flames in an instant.
'sSit still" he cried, wildly. 'EYou
will be crushed to death if you all 60
at once. There is time for all to es-
cape?
But the mad rush for the doors could
not be stopped, and almost before the
stage manager finished speaking, the
fire-curtain on the stage was let down
with a crash.
1t was then that Wyndham darted
out of his box, through the wings to
the green-room.
There was q wild crush and scram-
BILE there, too. Ballet-girls and fgur.
antes flew in their scanty attire to
. wards the narrow stage exit.
Men and women screamed and shout
ed; but above the din rose Wyndham's
voice, crying frantically:
Marguerite! Margueritep'
Up and down the narrow corridors
where the smoke was gathering 81
/; dense and black that death by suffoca
ton was the first peril, Wyndhan
dashed like a mailman.
''Where is Marguerite ValleauP" h
cried, frantically.
$ Never heard of her, replied one o
the machinists. Save yourself, mon
!" sieur. There is no time to hunt To-
l. missing ones"
: One Of the chorus girls dashed by
wrapped in a great cloak.
Il Marguerite Valleau is in the prop
erty ROOM" she said.
And Wyndham dashed forward.
He did not know where the propert,
e room was; there was no one to tel
d him. The corridors were almosL dc
. serted by the flying troupe; but abov
g the flames swelled and 1eaped, belch
: ing forth sparks and smoke that threat
Is ened to choke him. From behind tn
g ire-curtain he heard the roar OF til
!. terrified audience, like 50 many vii
beasts trying to burst their cage.
e Marguerite! Margueritew he cried
e But there came no reply.
8, To the right and left he ran, in on
Z door and out another, till at last b
t came upon limp, white figure lynn
= on the floor of the deserted room.
d ''Marguerite-thank Heaven b
"a cried, fervently.
r And catching her in his arms, b
le turned TO retrace his steps.
x His voice and touch seemed I
arouse her. She opened her eyes an
smiIed-smiled with death staring he
in the face, for Wyndham's passae
was barred by fame. He knew M
G which way to turn.
1T is thou" she said. softly,
French. 81 saw thee from the ver
- first"
u Marguerite" he whispered, hold
Y ing her close in his arms. There
d no place for as to go. We cannot q
T cape. Are you afraid to die with nj
= dearest?"
Of mo she answered. with a fearle.